


Homey

by snarechan



Series: Playing House [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Mob, Anniversary, Enemy Lovers, M/M, Moving In Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-19 01:09:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7338463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarechan/pseuds/snarechan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shaping a place for themselves only means there's more to lose later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homey

**Author's Note:**

> As the pre-prequel to [House of Lies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5603380), this piece is one work away from catching up to "current" events! So if you're clicking on this story before starting on the homepage you could find yourself a little confused, and it might be prudent to come back after you've read HoL. Readers shouldn't have to visit [Turnkey](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6840181), although if you enjoy backstory (and you must if you've ended up here?) that story might be worth enjoying, too! 
> 
> The biggest heap of thanks to Keppiehed, whose support and editing prowess kept this segment inline. And as a sidenote, thanks goes to [resident-longwinded-anon](http://archiveofourown.org/users/resident_longwinded_anon) for posting [this challenge](http://resident-longwinded-anon.tumblr.com/post/99087361601/its-fairly-self-explanatory-i-think-i-was) on Tumblr. I don't think I would have ever gotten into gear and written this if I hadn't found their post!

At one in the morning Ivan stepped off the elevator into his high-rise condominium. His was the unit on the top floor overseeing the metropolitan skyline. From this vantage point the city lights viewed like stars. Although the hour was late there was gusto to his every action.

He took the time to put away his belongings: shoes at the door, jacket and gloves in the closet. The pinkish scarf went untouched, save tossing an end over his shoulder to secure the article of clothing better. Despite the temperature of the space being a comfortable twenty-two degrees Celsius it stayed on even indoors. The kitchen was right off the small foyer, and Ivan entered to set his briefcase aside on the counter. He was undeterred by the time and intended to partake of a drink from his private stores.

His night had involved a series of victories. An arms deal Ivan spent months organizing went smoothly for the first time in a long while. As a result, the abundance of funds he found himself with contributed to addressing a more pressing matter.

A year or so ago a new contender had infiltrated the black market and Ivan's faction noticed a drop in revenue as he was underbid and, in recent cases, hijacked. They'd grown bolder and Ivan had no choice but to expand resources; he sent out feelers to hunt down those who dared undermine him. But no matter how persuasive his faucet pipe was, nobody brought forward could divulge a name or description.

There were rumors, but Ivan didn't see a reason to put much stock in hearsay. Given how deceptive those could be and difficult in sorting through, tracking the individual in charge had seemed insurmountable with what little he'd gathered. Until they'd slipped up. At least, somewhat. The gang leader remained elusive, but one of Ivan's lackeys stumbled onto the identity of their lieutenant. Considering Ivan was no longer strapped for cash and given the person's importance he had no qualms setting the price on their head very, _very_ high.

His pleasure at recent events had earned all his followers a couple rounds at the bar they fronted. Earlier, he'd only partaken of a small amount himself, but in the privacy of his condo Ivan felt it was his due. Reaching inside the beverage cooler, his fingers stilled; one of the glasses set to chill was missing, as was a bottle of imported vodka. He frowned and closed the door as he turned to take in the rest of the room. There weren't any noticeable signs of a disturbance, but having quieted he did pick up on something stirring in the adjacent bedroom.

It was dark. The hallway light was scarcely enough to spot the back of Alfred's head. He sat in the wide-back chair facing the window and crossed one leg over the other at the knee. The missing bottle of alcohol was situated on the side table next to him. Its exterior was frosted from exposure to the air, but Ivan noticed that one-third of the vodka was already gone. Alfred's fingers were lax where he gripped the rim of the glass.

"Alfred?" he started. Ivan's mood wasn't dampened by the unexpected company, although he couldn't help but worry. Of the two of them, Alfred did not consume alcohol often. On the rare occasions he did, his preferred drink was bourbon or rarer still, whiskey. "I did not know you would be here."

"Yeah, sorry. I know we postponed our festivities, but I guess I couldn't keep away," Alfred said. Taking a sip of vodka, he pressed the cool glass to his temple.

Ivan had to refrain from grimacing. His successes had come at a cost. At the time, Alfred hadn't _seemed_ offended by his request to delay their plans and celebrate the day after their official first year anniversary. Walking over, he said, "You should have called me. I would have treated you sooner than the dinner we have reserved later."

Alfred shook his head. The motion conveyed his meaning without disturbing his drink. "No, darlin', it's fine."

"Is it…?" Ivan asked, and perched on the armrest. He placed his hand atop Alfred's; the chill of the glass wouldn't have bothered him, but with the other man's skin as a buffer Ivan felt it even less. "I appreciate your understanding more than you will ever realize, but if I have upset you—"

"Hm? Oh, no. My mood has nothing to do with you, I promise. I just got notice of some last minute bad news. A minor setback." Tilting his head, the city lights reflected in the lenses of Alfred's glasses with streaks of red and white and blue. "Let's talk about something else. You look pleased as punch. I take it your presentation went well?"

"Yes, among other things." Ivan lifted the glass, still holding Alfred's hand in place, and finished the entire container. His bottom lip brushed against the other man's fingers. "I am also looking to…interview a new candidate soon."

"Not tonight, though," Alfred was quick to say. There was also an edge to his voice.

"Nothing will intervene with us. I swore this to you." To further appease him, Ivan poured another serving of vodka.

"Good. That's great," he said. He took his own turn, but didn't finish the drink in one take as Ivan had, continuing to do tiny samplings.

"Are you certain you are not angry with me?"

Alfred huffed and said, "I told you I'm not! I just… There's…" Face twisting, he took a larger swig. His eyes watered a little due to the amount, and his throat sounded raw. "Let's assume that if you keep your word over dinner there are some tickets to that show you were raving about, okay?"

In a grip this side of breaking the cup with the intensity of his hold, Ivan reached and took him by the hand again. "You are taking us to see the Moscow Ballet?" With the many concerns for his organization piling up Ivan was forced to let certain interests fall by the wayside. The tours of the Russian theater were not so important when faced with the notion of a mounting gang war. He'd been unable to purchase seats until it was too late.

Such excitement was soon hampered by the prospect of how Alfred may have come to get those tickets, since Ivan hadn't mentioned his interest until his disappointment at the fact he'd missed the opportunity. "Solnyshko moyo, that is…too much, too much!" He brought Alfred's hand up to his lips and pressed a real kiss into his knuckles, over and over. Fortunately the glass was empty or its contents would have sloshed everywhere.

"I-Ivan! Stop that, you don't—" Laughing, he revealed that smile Ivan adored so much. "It wasn't, really. I, uh." Tongue peeking out, Alfred ran it along his upper lip starting at the corner. "I know a guy who knows a guy. So no cancelling this time, all right?"

"No, never." On the back of his hand Ivan placed one last, lingering kiss. "You needn't go to such lengths. I would have kept my promise."

"I wanted to, though there goes my surprise," Alfred assured him, even if he couldn't stop from sounding forlorn.

Quiet now, Ivan considered whether or not the occasion was right to reveal a surprise of his own. The idea had haunted him for many nights. Eventually Ivan wanted to address the particulars of it with a few of his closer subordinates, but suspected that they would try and talk him out of it. They'd be right to. What he was willing to offer would not be simple. _But when have I ever taken the easy way?_ he mused. If his business had taught him anything, it was how beneficial it was to risk high. Ivan slowly said, "Then it is only fair that I give you your gift in return."

"Oh?" Alfred asked, in the process of lifting his refilled vodka glass to take another sip.

"I want you to move in with me."

Alfred half-spit out, half-choked on the alcohol. With his elbow, he dismissed Ivan's pats on the back. Wiping his mouth on the crisp cuffs of his dress shirt, he asked, "What are you saying? I mean, I'm flattered since I already have a key—"

"No." Ivan's voice was low and firm. "I want you to _move in_ with me."

"Move in? Like, get a house together?" Alfred asked. The drink in his grip looked to be forgotten.

Ivan nodded and was able to take the glass out of his hands. Setting it alongside the vodka bottle he said, "Yes. I…may have looked at property in my spare time. You have confided in me that you grow weary of city life, and I, too, could do with some distance to spend more quality time with you."

"I take it you've pegged my answer as a yes?" Contrary to the question, Alfred sounded charmed rather than affronted.

He took that as a good sign, but he decided to sweeten the deal.

"Not assuming, but hopeful," Ivan said. "Both our names would be on the deed, of course—"

"Yes! All right, yes." Alfred laughed and situated himself so he was on his knees atop the seat cushions. As he leaned in, breathy and smelling of vodka, Ivan was liable to get drunk off the sight of him more than the liquor. "There's just _one_ itsy-bitsy stipulation."

 _Anything_ , Ivan almost said, but he was not so youthful, eager, or imprudent. Tilting his head, he instead asked, "Oh?"

"We're going with a new build, and I want to be in charge of design."

"I do not foresee why you cannot pick accents and furniture," Ivan consented.

"Nuh-uh, it's all or nothing. From the moment we break ground to the tiniest nail used in our house, I'm a part of _everything_."

It took a beat, but Ivan made it beyond the part pertaining to 'our house' and comprehended the rest of Alfred's request. "You are an architect now? I never knew."

"Don't ruin this," he whined and drifted onto his chest. "I know it'll be a huge undertaking, but…if we're going to do this then I want it to be perfect."

"Very well," Ivan said, in a similar vein to _'as you wish_ ', "I will leave the task of building our house in your capable hands." Ivan permitted himself a little more romanticism, curling a finger under Alfred's chin and pressing his lips to the other man's forehead.

In turn, Alfred let slip his eyelids. His voice became thicker, and Ivan suspected it had nothing to do with his drink from earlier. "Thank you. I promise not to disappoint you."

 _Ah, but you already haven't_ , he mused. Out loud, Ivan said, "I know you won't."

**Author's Note:**

> I knew from the moment I wrote their argument in HoL that Alfred's and Ivan's botched anniversary deserved some explanation. Hinting about their exploits and ulterior motives was a fun experiment. 
> 
> _Solnyshko moyo_ = my sunshine
> 
> Check out my [writing blog on Tumblr](http://snaurus.tumblr.com/) for more content!


End file.
